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Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 12. Ready To Trim West Point |
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_ CHAPTER XII. READY TO TRIM WEST POINT "Have had an experience, sir, that we shall never forget, and one that we wouldn't have missed!" Thus spoke Dave Darrin the, following afternoon, as he saluted the young officers of the "Dodger" before going over the side as the boat lay alongside the wall of the basin. To which the other midshipmen agreed. "We have enjoyed having you aboard," replied Lieutenant Jack Benson. "None of us will ever forget this cruise." Then the six midshipmen strode briskly along the walks until they reached Bancroft Hall. It wasn't long ere news of the adventure of the night before got whispered along the decks. Then Dave and Dan, Farley and Page, Jetson and Wolgast all had so much midshipman company that it was a relief when the evening study hours came around. All six of the midshipmen had to tell the story of their submarine experience until all of them fairly hated to talk about the matter. Seaman Morton was never heard from again, and so did not come in for his share of the excitement. However, it was not destined to last long, for the football season was at its height and every blue-clad middy thought, talked and dreamed about the Navy team. A good team it was, too, and a good year for the Navy. The young men of the Naval Academy played one of their most brilliant seasons of football. Dave, by a bigger effort than any one understood, forced back his interest in the gridiron until he played a brilliant game. The Navy won more victories than it had done before in any one of fifteen seasons of football. Yet report said that the Army, too, was playing a superb game, considering that it had been deprived of its two best players, Prescott and Holmes. Up to the last Dave continued to hope that Cadet Dick Prescott might be restored to the Army eleven. Dick's letters from West Point, however, appeared to indicate clearly that he was not to play. Therefore Greg Holmes wouldn't play. At last came the fateful day, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Early the Brigade of Midshipmen was marched over to the trolley line, where a long string of cars waited to receive them. "We want an extra car to-night," one first classman called jovially to the car inspector who was in charge of the transportation. "We want that extra car to bring back the Army scalp in." All the way to Baltimore and thence to Philadelphia, Dave Darrin was unusually quiet. Dalzell, on the other hand, made noise enough for both of them. "Darry hasn't the sulks over anything, has be?" Wolgast anxiously asked Dalzell. "Don't you believe it," Dan retorted. "But he's so abominably quiet." "Saving all his breath to use on the field." "Are you sure Darry is in form?" persisted Wolgast. "Yes. Wait and see." "I'll have to," sighed Wolgast, with another sidelong glance at Darrin's emotionless face. The Navy team and subs. arrived at dressing quarters nearly an hour before it would be necessary to tog. As the West Point men were on hand, also, Dave stepped outside. Almost the first man he met was a tall, slim, soldierly looking fellow in the cadet gray. "Aren't you Fields?" asked Dave, holding out his hand. "Yes," replied the cadet, giving his own hand. "And you're Darrin---one of the few men we're afraid of." "Does Prescott play to-day?" Dave asked eagerly. The West Pointer's brow clouded. "No," he replied. "Mr. Prescott isn't a subject for conversation at the Military Academy. Mr. Prescott is in Coventry." "Sad mistake," muttered Darrin. "Eh?" "A sad mistake. You men have made a bad bungle; I know it." "It is a matter of internal discipline in the corps," replied the West Point cadet, speaking much more coldly. "Yes, I know it," Dave replied quickly, "and I beg your pardon for having seemed to criticise the action of the Corps of Cadets. However, anything that unpleasantly affects Dick Prescott is a sore subject with me. Prescott is one of the best friends I have in the world." "Why, I've heard something about that," replied Fields in a less constrained tone. "You and Mr. Prescott are old school cronies." "Of the closest kind," Dave nodded. "That's why I feel certain that Dick Prescott never did, and never could do, anything dishonorable. You'll surely find it out before long, and then the Corps will make full amends." "I fear not," replied Cadet Fields. "Mr. Prescott had every opportunity given him to clear himself, and failed to do so to the satisfaction of the Corps. Therefore he'll never graduate from the Military Academy. It wouldn't do him any good to try. He'd only be ostracized in the Army if he had the cheek to stay in the Corps." "Let's not talk about that part of it any more," begged Dave. "But you'll miss Prescott from your fighting line to-day." "That's very likely," assented the West Point man. "I'm glad we haven't Mr. Prescott here, but we'd be heartily glad if we had some one else as good on the football field." "And you haven't Holmes, either?" sighed Dave. "That isn't any one's fault but Holmesy's," frowned Cadet Fields. "We wanted Holmesy to play, and we gave him every chance, but-----" "But he wouldn't," finished Dave. "No more would I play on the Navy team if the fellows had done anything unjust to Dalzell." "Do you feel that you're going to have an easy walk-over with us to-day?" demanded Cadet Fields cheerily. "No; but we're prepared to fight. We'll get the game if it's in any way possible," Darrin assured his questioner. "Are the bonfires back in Annapolis all ready to be lighted to-night?" inquired Fields smilingly. "They must be." "What a lot of unnecessary labor," laughed the West Point man. "Why?" challenged Dave. "Because the Army is going to win again." That "again" caused Dave Darrin to wince. "We win almost every time, you know," Fields explained. "Almost every time?" challenged Dan Dalzell, joining the pair. "Are you sure of your statistics?" "Oh, I have the statistics, of course," Fields answered. "That's why I speak so confidently." At this point three more West Point men approached. "Hey, fellows," called Fields good-humoredly. "Do you know of an impression that I find to prevail among the middies to-day?" "What is that?" inquired one of the gray-clad cadets, as the newcomers joined the group. "Why, the middies seem to think that they're going to take the Army's scalp to-day." "Is that really your idea of the matter?" asked one of the gray-clad cadets. "So Mr. Fields has said," Dave answered. "But what do you say?" "About the most that I feel like saying," Darrin answered as quietly as ever, "is that the Navy prefers to do its bragging afterwards." "An excellent practice," nodded one of the cadets. "You've acquired the habit through experience, I presume. It has saved your having to swallow a lot of your words on many occasions." All laughed good-naturedly. Though there was the most intense rivalry between the two government military schools, yet all were gentlemen, and the fun-making could not be permitted to go beyond the limits of ordinary teasing. "What's your line-up?" broke in Dan Dalzell. "Haven't you fellows gotten hold of the cards yet?" asked one of the West Point men. "Then take a look over mine." Standing together Dave and Dan eagerly glanced down the printed line-up of the Military Academy. "I know a few of these names," ventured Darrin, "and they're the names of good men. Several of the other names I don't know at all. And you've left out the names of the two Army men that we're most afraid of in a game of football." "It seems queer to think of an Army line-up without Prescott and Holmes," Dan declared musingly. Over the faces of the cadets there crept a queer look, but none of them spoke. "So you've boycotted Prescott and Holmes?" pursued Dalzell. "Yes," replied one of the cadets. "Or, rather, Prescott is in Coventry, and Holmes prefers to stand by his friend in everything. Holmes, being Prescott's roommate, doesn't have to keep away from Mr. Prescott." "Humph!" laughed Dan. "I think I can see Greg Holmes turning his back upon Dick Prescott. Why, Greg wouldn't do that even if he had to get out of the Army in consequence." "We did the only thing we could with the Prescott fellow," spoke up another cadet. Dave Darrin's dark eyes flashed somewhat. "Gentlemen," he begged quietly, "will you do me the very great favor not to refer to Prescott slightingly as a 'fellow.' He's one of the noblest youngsters I've ever known, and I'm his friend through thick and thin. Of course, I don't expect you to know it yet, but I feel positive that you've made a tremendous mistake in sending to Coventry one of nature's noblemen." "Hm!" muttered some of the cadets, and slight frowns were visible. "And when you lose the game to-day," continued Dan Dalzell, "it may be a comfort to you to know that you might possibly have won it if you had had Prescott and Holmes in your battle front." "Prescott isn't the only football player in the Army," returned Cadet Fields. "Nor are he and Holmes the only pair of 'em." "You'll lose without that pair, though," ventured Dave. "And it must shake the confidence of your men, too, for you've come here without your two best men." "Of course, we have to manage our own affairs," interposed one of the cadets. "Gentlemen," spoke up Dave quickly, "of course, you have to manage your own problems, and no one else is fitted to do so. If I've gone too far in what might have seemed like criticism, then I beg you to forget it. I don't want to be suspected of any disagreeable intent. If I spoke almost bitterly it was because Prescott is my very dear friend. I have another, and a real grievance---I wanted to test myself out today against Dick Prescott, as any two friends may contest to vanquish one another on the field of sports." "No one had any thought, I am sure, Mr. Darrin, of accusing you of wishing to be disagreeable," spoke up Cadet Fields. "We believe you to be a prince of good and true fellows; in fact, we accept you at the full estimate of the Brigade of Midshipmen. Wade in and beat us to-day, if you can---but you can't Prescott or no Prescott." "Better run inside and tog!" called Wolgast from a distance. "You'll excuse us now, won't you?" asked Dave. "Come along, Danny boy." As the two midshipmen lifted their caps and hastened away, Fields gazed after them speculatively: "There goes the Navy's strength in to-day's game," he announced. "I wonder if we have done Prescott any wrong?" said another cadet slowly. "That question has been settled by formal class action," replied another. "It's a closed matter." Then these West Point men strolled over to quarters to get into togs. As they were to play subs. they did not need to be as early at togging as the members of the team. Out on Franklin Field thousands and thousands of Americans, from the President of the United States down, waited impatiently for the excitement of the day to begin. On either side of the field some hundreds of seats were still left vacant. The music of a band now floated out, proclaiming that one set of seats was soon to be filled. Then in, through a gate, marched the Military Academy band at the head of the Corps of Cadets. Frantic cheers broke loose on the air, and there was a great fluttering of the black and gray banners carried by the Army's boosters in the audience. Gray and steel-like the superb corps marched in across the field, and over to the seats assigned to them. Barely had the Army band ceased playing when another struck up in the distance. It was now the turn of the fine Naval Academy band to play the Brigade of Midshipmen on to the field. Again the air vibrated with the intensity of the loyal cheers that greeted the middies. Over in quarters, after the middies of the team had togged, a few anxious minutes of waiting followed. What was to be the fate of the day? "Darry," spoke Wolgast in a voice full of feeling, "you're not woozy to-day, are you?" "I don't believe I am," smiled Dave. "Well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale---or something---at times this season. You haven't been the real Darry---always. You're feeling in really bully form today?" "I'm pretty sure that I'm in good winning form," Dave replied. "Will that be enough?" Wolgast looked him over, then rejoined: "Somehow, I think you're in pretty good form. I'll feel better, very likely, after we've played for ten minutes. Darry, old fellow, just don't forget how much the Navy depends upon you." "Are you all right, Davy?" Dan Dalzell demanded in a more than anxious undertone. "I certainly am, Danny boy." "But, you know-----" "Yes; I know that, for a while, I showed signs of going fuzzy. But I'm over that." "Good!" chuckled Dan, as he caught the resolute flash in Darrin's eyes. "I was fearfully afraid that you'd go bad simply because you didn't have Prescott to go up against. For a good many days that very fact seemed to prey upon your mind and make you indifferent." "Danny boy, I am going to play my mightiest, just because Prescott isn't with the Army!" "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that I'm going to make the West Point fellows most abominably sorry that they didn't have Dick Prescott on their eleven. And you want to stand with me in that, Danny boy. Keep hammering the Army to-day, and with every blow just think it's another blow struck for Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes. Oh, we'll trim West Point in their joint name!" _ |
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